


Synopsis: The Valkyrie

by dairesfanficrefuge_archivist



Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Meta, Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-31
Updated: 2003-12-31
Packaged: 2018-12-18 07:14:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11869254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dairesfanficrefuge_archivist/pseuds/dairesfanficrefuge_archivist
Summary: Note from Daire, the archivist: this story was originally archived atDaire's Fanfic Refuge. Deciding to give the stories a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onDaire's Fanfic Refuge's collection profile.





	Synopsis: The Valkyrie

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Daire, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Daire's Fanfic Refuge](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Daire%27s_Fanfic_Refuge). Deciding to give the stories a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Daire's Fanfic Refuge's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/dairesfanficrefuge/profile).

The Valkyrie

**THE VALKYRIE**

This one is based on fact. Operation Valkyrie did exist. Count (Colonel) Stauffenburg was a historical figure, involved in placing a bomb in Wolf's Lair that failed to kill Hitler. Stauffenburg was executed soon after along with hundreds of others. He appears here with a slight spelling change in his name. 

Is it right to use assassination as a tool to change history? As Methos points out, if Hitler had been killed in an earlier attempt, a more rational hate monger might have taken control of Germany and defeated the Allies. Hitler's own irrationality (read: insanity) ultimately led to failure. 

A related variation on this theme of tampering with history is the Star Trek episode, 'The City on the Edge of Forever.' The Enterprise officers are separated but wind up (time warp time), in pre-war USA around the time of the 1929 depression. Kirk falls deeply in love with Edith Keeler (played by a young Joan Collins). McCoy has tampered with time by saving her life. Now, she will go on to form a peace movement that delays America's entry into WWII. Nazi Germany gets the bomb first and rules the world. When the moment comes around again, Kirk makes his decision. As the deadly car hurtles toward Edith, he holds McCoy back, allowing the woman he loves to be killed, thus saving the world from Nazi rule. 

MacLeod faces a similar decision in this one. Weighing the welfare of the one against that of the many. Kirk, Spock, and McCoy would have been proud. 

_New Characters:_

**INGRID HENNING** \- Immortal, old friend, undoubtedly lover of Duncan's from WWII days. At that time, killing was abhorrent to her but she made an exception for Operation Valkyrie, the plot to kill Hitler. 

**DAVID** \- young Jewish friend of Ingrid's and Mac's in pre-war Germany. 

**COLONEL STAUFFENBURG** \- One of the prime movers for Operation Valkyrie. 

**ADOLF HITLER** \- no description necessary. 

**IGOR STEFANOVICH** \- Modern day Hitler type on the rise to power in Russia. 

**DIMITRI** \- Aide to Stefanovich. 

**ALAN WILKINSON** \- Present day white supremacist type making a run for the Senate, with the presidency as his next stop. 

**NICOLAE BRESLAW** \- Interpol inspector on Ingrid's trail from Moscow. 

**DETECTIVE ROBERT FRAYNE** \- a cop just doing his job. 

* * *

Moscow, Present Day 

Igor Stefanovich-   
Staying up late,   
Watching his taped-   
Speech, filled with hate,   
'They love me, Dimitri,   
I kindle a flame,   
For their wretched lives,   
I say who's to blame.' 

'Jews, Moslems, Chechnyans,   
It doesn't matter,   
I'll choose the target,   
They'd better scatter,   
Dimitri, there'll be-   
Glorious days soon ahead,   
But now, I am tired,   
I'm going to bed. 

As Igor retires,   
There's a knock at the door,   
Ingrid claims she's expected-   
To 'service' Igor,   
To prove it, she bares-   
Some clinging black lace,   
Struts in the room,   
Like she owns the place. 

'What's going on?'   
Igor hears the intrusion,   
She levels her gun-   
And amidst the confusion,   
She assassinates Igor,   
Then Dimitri plugs her,   
As he screams in the phone,   
She's beginning to stir. 

On the phone, full of panic,   
'Help! Stefanovich is shot!'   
Coolly, she rises,   
In a rush, she is not,   
After shooting Dimitri,   
She exits with style,   
Sashaying away-   
With a satisfied smile. 

Seacouver Community Center   
'Charlie DeSalvo Memorial Boxing Tournament' 

Mac, Joe and Methos-   
Sit watching the bout,   
Despite MacLeod's warnings-   
His guy gets knocked out,   
Methos asks, 'You and Joe-   
Want to sponsor this meet?'   
'Yeah, Charlie's goal-   
Keeping kids off the street.' 

Methos munches popcorn,   
Sees the boxer, inert.   
He observes, 'Yeah I see-   
On the street they'd get hurt!'   
His sarcasm's noted,   
Then a Buzz characteristic-   
Of Immortals, distracts them-   
From thoughts pugilistic. 

'I don't believe it!'   
Says Mac with a smile,   
Hasn't seen Ingrid Henning-   
In a very long while,   
Methos is spooked,   
Telling Joe, 'Say good-bye,   
Strangers with swords-   
Make me awfully shy.' 

Vouches Mac, 'She's a friend,'   
As he speeds to her side,   
She's startled to see him,   
She was preoccupied,   
Gently taking her hands-   
Takes them back to that date-   
When a madman embarked-   
On his campaign of hate. 

Flashback, Berlin, Germany, 1935   
Small Bar/Beer Hall 

The moustached MacLeod-   
(A treat to the eye)-   
Is here in his role-   
As a shrewd British spy.   
As he dances with Ingrid,   
She warns, 'Don't forget-   
This Austrian house painter-   
Isn't feared as a threat.' 

'The British are snobs,   
They'll never believe,'   
'Do the people support him?'   
This, he can't conceive,   
'They love him,' she says   
'They won't realize till later,   
He appeals to their lowest-   
Common denominator.' 

In stumbles David,   
Bloody and shaking,   
Beat up by two Brownshirts,   
A point they were making,   
'I was only just talking-   
Out there on the street,'   
But because he is Jewish,   
He offends the elite. 

This gives reinforcement-   
To what Ingrid's stating,   
'Tell British Intelligence-   
That underestimating-   
Hitler...will be-   
A lethal mistake,   
Maybe the biggest-   
That they'll ever make!' 

Then the Brownshirts come in,   
Still following Dave,   
Mac wants to give them-   
As good as they gave,   
'You're here to _observe,_ '   
Ingrid makes him stay back,   
But, the bullies swagger forward-   
Eagerly, to attack. 

'The Jew has run back-   
To his Communist friends...   
Are you his friend?'   
'No,' Mac contends,   
'I am his _brother,_ '   
'Another foul Jew!'   
With disgust on their faces,   
The Brownshirts set to. 

But a shock is in store-   
For Germany's best,   
MacLeod kicks their butts-   
North, South, East and West,   
With their tails meekly dragging-   
He chucks them outside,   
Not one hair is ruffled,   
He remains dignified. 

'What did you accomplish-   
With that little display?'   
Mac: 'Made me feel better,'   
Is all he can say.   
David thanks Mac,   
'But you can't ignore,   
Those two may be stopped,   
But soon, there'll be more.' 

'There'll always be more,'   
Ingrid takes David's hand,   
She'll hide him away-   
From that scurrilous band,   
Mac's offered free beer,   
He'd like to stay,   
Ingrid grabs him as well,   
And jerks him away. 

Back to the Community Center, Present Day 

Duncan kisses her hand,   
Fifty years, it has been,   
But enough reminiscing,   
The police have come in,   
Breslaw is with them,   
Scanning the crowd,   
Ingrid yanks the alarm,   
Then again, pulls MacLeod 

The Loft 

'What happened back there?'   
'An event unrelated,   
Some Russian politico-   
Was terminated...   
In a hotel in Moscow,   
The same one I stayed at,   
I don't know his name-   
Or the intrigues he played at.' 

'My passport wasn't kosher-   
So they followed me here.'   
'You never were careless,'   
Says Mac, feigning cheer,   
She crosses her legs,   
Gives a sly little wink,   
What must I do....   
To be offered a drink?' 

Now they've relaxed-   
With drinks, like old times,   
'I could help fix your passport...'   
(Mac does petty crimes)   
'No,' she demurs,   
'Just let it be...   
They might...' (nervous laugh)   
Think the murderer is _me._ ' 

'You???' Duncan laughs,   
Ingrid murder? That's rich!   
'But the world's better off-   
Without Stefanovich.'   
'You did not know his name,'   
Mac tenses again,   
Ingrid suddenly remembers,   
'I must catch a plane.' 

Too many questions,   
She'd rather not answer,   
Mac sees he has lost-   
His chance to romance her,   
She kisses his cheek,   
As if to remind him,   
He offers his help,   
Yes, she knows where to find him. 

The Marina, Next Day 

Mac says, 'Boxing gives-   
Kids discipline, of sorts,'   
Says Methos, 'I'm not-   
A fan of blood sports.'   
'Oh dear,' replies Mac,   
Topic at an end,   
Then Methos inquires...   
'Where is your friend?' 

'She left.' 'Why the cops?'   
Methos pushes a little,   
'Just tying up loose ends,'   
Answers Mac, noncommittal,   
'Five cars and ten men,   
That's loose ends galore,'   
'You're an old cynic.'   
He'll discuss it no more. 

They each buy newspapers,   
One ad leaps at Mac,   
He's stunned, as he reads-   
The announcement in black,   
The New Freedom Party,   
Neo-Nazis, pro-white,   
Their rally's being held,   
Where the fights were last night. 

Seacouver Community Center 

Wilkinson is rehearsing,   
He's the party's nominee,   
His hate-filled agenda-   
White supremacy,   
MacLeod has come in-   
To Wilkinson's shout,   
'White is _right_ in this country!   
All others, stay out!' 

'A White nation built-   
By White toil and sweat,   
Pray to a God-   
Who is White, don't forget,   
We must not fall back-   
After all we have done,   
The Whites are supreme,   
Superior, bar none!' 

Ingrid is there,   
Approaching the stage,   
In her hand is a gun,   
In her heart, deadly rage,   
Mac intercepts her,   
'Please leave,' she's imploring   
'I can't let you do this!'   
Her protests, ignoring. 

MacLeod grabs her gun...   
And as they engage,   
A quick-thinking guard-   
Shoves the bigot offstage.   
When the smoke finally clears-   
Ingrid's on the run,   
MacLeod is arrested,   
(She passed him the gun). 

Later 

Breslaw sits quietly-   
Advising MacLeod,   
'You should write fiction-   
Since you are endowed-   
With a mind that imagines,   
Such an intricate plot,   
Your talents are wasted,   
Book critic I'm not.' 

'Inspector, I'd help-   
If only I could,'   
'Mr. MacLeod...   
I hoped that you would,   
Meanwhile, let's do-   
A little review,   
I want to be sure-   
I understand you.' 

'By chance, you passed by,   
And came through this door,   
Met a woman you've never-   
Encountered before,   
You grab her gun,   
She runs out and screams...'   
'Inspector,' says Mac,   
'I know how it seems.' 

Says Breslaw, 'I've learned-   
Throughout my career,   
Everything's possible,   
People aren't as they appear   
From his pocket-a drawing-   
Doubtlessly Ingrid's face,   
But Mac can't recall-   
Seeing her any place. 

'A person mixed up in-   
A murder prevention,   
One would think that he would-   
Pay more attention.'   
To Frayne, 'Do not bother,   
No prints will you find,   
To MacLeod, 'It's about-   
A murder designed.' 

The Loft, Later 

Doors, windows, are locked,   
The lift needs a key...   
But Ingrid is waiting-   
For MacLeod, nervously,   
'You've gotten good-   
In the last fifty years,'   
She runs down the list-   
Of her spying careers. 

British Intelligence,   
Israeli Mossad,   
Central Intelligence,   
She isn't slipshod,   
Mac inquires, 'Is it true...   
Is murder your game?'   
She: 'Assassinations!'   
He: 'Outcome's the same.' 

'Some people deserve it,   
Regrets...I have none,'   
Mac notes, 'You're judge, jury,   
Executioner...in one!   
A ponderous burden,   
Tell me, if you will...   
Since when have you found it-   
So easy to kill?' 

Flashback, Berlin, Germany, 1944   
A Rathskeller 

Colonel Stauffenburg waits-   
With Ingrid, for Mac   
In secret they've plotted,   
They cannot turn back,   
The Führer must die!   
Briefcase bomb they will use,   
The kind that requires-   
A delicate fuse. 

Duncan has smuggled-   
The fuses from Britain,   
Disguised as a Nazi,   
His appearance, hard-bitten,   
Says the colonel; 'He's English,   
That's a strong liability,'   
Mac rattles off German-   
With amazing facility.' 

'When the glass breaks, the acid-   
Will drip on the wire,   
Eight to ten minutes,   
That's all we require,'   
Mac sprinkles some salt,   
On the table, here and there-   
Symbolizing the set-up-   
Of the bunker, Wolf's Lair. 

'No way in hell-   
He'll escape from this snare,   
Operation Valkyrie-   
Will level Wolf's Lair.'   
Germany will be saved,   
Pulled back from the brink,   
A toast to Valkyrie!'   
All three gladly drink. 

After Stauffenburg leaves,   
Ingrid speaks from her heart,   
'Killing mortals is something-   
That tears me apart,   
I've used my sword-   
Against our own kind,   
But this is different,   
It's torturing my mind.' 

'They're only soldiers,   
With children and wives,   
They fight for their country,   
Now they'll lose their lives.'   
Mac agrees, 'That is true,   
It is all as you said,   
But, regardless of that-   
Hitler will be dead.' 

Back to the Loft, Present Day 

'Wilkinson's not Hitler!'   
Duncan points out,   
She: 'He may _become_ him,   
He's growing in clout,   
He burned down black churches-   
In his younger days,   
Then he and his friends,   
Murdered some gays.' 

'Now all he does-   
Is give nasty speeches,   
His people obey,   
Carry out what he preaches,   
Duncan, don't stop me,   
We're old friends right now,   
But thwarting my plans,   
I cannot allow.' 

Joe's Bar 

'What's so funny?' asks Joe,   
Methos giggles aloud-   
At the moral dilemma-   
Faced by MacLeod,   
'Sometimes, I don't like you!'   
Mac growls at the Old One,   
'Sometimes, _I_ don't like me,'   
(Methos sips a cold one). 

'Ingrid Henning, I see-   
Is your problem,' says Joe,   
Mac can't avoid-   
Agreeing it's so,   
'She failed to kill Hitler,   
And since forty-four,   
She's tried to atone-   
With her own private war.' 

Flashback, Rastenburg, East Prussia, 1944 

Bad news for the plotters,   
Hitler's briefing's been moved,   
A conference above ground,   
Has now been approved,   
The bomb must be placed-   
To ensure Hitler's doom-   
Very close to Der Führer,   
So he's sure to go Boom! 

MacLeod volunteers-   
For this grisly task,   
Stauffenburg is impressed,   
He did not have to ask,   
'The country will hear-   
Of the courageous Brit.'   
MacLeod's one request,   
'Keep my name out of it.' 

Wolf's Lair 

The day has arrived,   
Hitler walks stiff and mute   
Barely acknowledging-   
The straight-armed salute,   
The briefcase is placed,   
Burning acid will fall,   
Stauffenburg leaves-   
For a 'telephone call.' 

Then at the last moment-   
Someone shifts the case-   
Away from Der Führer,   
It's in the _wrong place!_   
Mac tries surreptitiously-   
Circling the table,   
To move the bomb back,   
But alas, he's unable. 

Outside, Ingrid's pleased-   
By the powerful blast,   
But some have survived!   
As they stagger past...   
Der Führer's among them!   
NO! _This can't be true!_   
She raises her pistol....   
But can't follow through. 

The horror on her face-   
Is frightful to see-   
As Hitler strides forward,   
'G-d's hand protects ME!'   
Her finger on the trigger,   
Immobile as frost,   
Until she's gunned down,   
And everything's lost! 

Back to Joe's Bar 

'Hitler survived,   
Then-what he became-   
Ingrid felt always-   
That she was to blame'.   
'Oh, spare me the drama,'   
Methos adds, 'There's no mystery,   
History makes men,   
Men do not make history.' 

Methos says, 'It is clear,   
I could not be surer,   
The times then were ripe-   
For the rise of a Führer,   
If not the housepainter,   
Possibly someone littler,'   
'My point is,' says Mac-   
'That it was Hitler.' 

'The point,' inserts Joe,   
'Is that she's Mac's friend,'   
Mac admits, 'I don't know-   
How to make all this end,'   
'Don't you?' asks Methos,   
There's a very long pause....   
'No, I _don't!_ ' snaps MacLeod,   
And quickly withdraws. 

The Dojo 

Breslaw and the cops-   
Push Mac to the wall,   
'My man saw her leave,   
You lied, after all,'   
Breslaw tells Mac-   
With quiet frustration,   
'Now we will talk-   
Down at the station.' 

Interrogation Room, Police Station 

'I'm not after you,   
Please don't make me press,   
I'm liable to uncover-   
An unpleasant mess,   
Either charge you, or free you,   
I know the rule,   
You may not be with her,   
But you're a blind fool!' 

'Then give me a cane,   
I'll be on my way,'   
'Not quite,' Breslaw is-   
In no hurry, today,   
Mac: 'What she's done,   
I do not condone it.'   
'But part of you still-   
Won't completely disown it.' 

Breslaw speaks slowly-   
Concise and magnetic,   
To Mac's inner turmoil,   
He seems sympathetic,   
'I'll tell you a story,   
Of a man who wrote rhymes,   
He happened to live-   
In very dark times.' 

'From Germany he fled,   
With a young son and wife-   
To Romania...and there-   
They began a new life,   
They were happy until-   
The Communists came,   
They shot him dead,   
His poems were to blame.' 

'For his _poetry,_ MacLeod!   
My father was shot,   
I too, felt the cruelty-   
Of a savage despot,   
This Wilkinson scum-   
Makes a good person nervous,   
Some would label his death-   
A community service.' 

'What would _you_ say?'   
Breslaw's voice a low drone,   
'I'd say,' replies Mac-   
That you should postpone-   
The speech Mr. Wilkinson's-   
Slated to spew,   
I want Ingrid stopped-   
As much as you do.' 

MacLeod won't be charged,   
Breslaw says, 'You are free,   
Your lawyer is here.'   
Now who could that be?   
Methos! With papers-   
That prove he can be-   
A lawyer, accountant,   
Or a licensed MD. 

Outside the Police Station 

As they near the car,   
MacLeod gets an earful,   
'Ingrid's done fifteen murders-   
In ten years... That's fearful!'   
Mac says, 'She believes-   
She's improving the world,'   
That statement, right back-   
In his own face is hurled! 

States Methos...'That's exactly-   
What _he_ believed, too,   
Adolf... something-or other?'   
MacLeod starts to stew,   
'You know it,' says Methos-   
'But don't want to hear it!'   
Mac's head is whirling,   
He battles to clear it. 

Outside Wilkinson's Hotel 

Frayne is staked out,   
Just like a Watcher,   
Spots Ingrid Henning,   
To himself mumbles, 'Gotcha!'   
Next moment, she's gone-   
Only to reappear,   
Leveling a pistol-   
Right next to his ear. 

'Ingrid...relax,'   
Begging her not to worry,   
'No one's going to stop me!'   
She adds, 'I am sorry,'   
Then she pulls the trigger-   
Killing the cop,   
Anyone in her way-   
She's determined to stop. 

The Dojo Office 

_'She couldn't do that!'_   
Mac insists, feeling sure,   
Still clinging to hope-   
That her motives are pure,   
'You're a _fool!_ ' berates Breslaw,   
For Mac, plays the tape,   
Her voice...then the shot!   
Mac's mouth is agape! 

Outside the Seacouver Community Center 

A trap has been laid,   
Wilkinson's double-   
Exits his car,   
Cops ready for trouble,   
A 'bag lady' nears-   
Limps as close as she can,   
'Put down the gun, Ingrid,   
He's not the right man!' 

Ingrid whirls to shoot Breslaw,   
He fires, posthaste,   
Over her corpse-   
He laments, 'What a waste!'   
He assumes it's all over-   
Now that Ingrid's departed,   
Cannot know she'll return-   
To complete what she started. 

Joe's Bar, later 

Breslaw and MacLeod-   
At the bar, drink in sorrow,   
Wilkinson's speech-   
Is on for tomorrow,   
'This time he'll be-   
All on his own,'   
Breslaw mulls, 'Things have changed-   
Since from boyhood I've grown.' 

'As a boy, things were either-   
Dark black or pure white,   
Good versus evil,   
Wrong versus right,   
Now, I've discovered-   
Things are never that way,   
There is only one color,   
And the color is gray.' 

'I'm sorry,' says Breslaw,   
'For killing your friend,'   
Mac: 'The Ingrid I knew...   
Her memories won't end,   
This woman you killed,   
I can't even name...   
You did what was needed,   
I'd have done the same.' 

'But'...mutters Breslaw,   
'Who knows...was I right?   
If this scum becomes president,   
Will I sleep at night?'   
Breslaw did his duty,   
Now MacLeod must decide,   
If Ingrid persists...   
Can he stand aside?' 

Seacouver Community Center   
Night of Wilkinson's Speech 

With both arms upraised,   
He rallies the crowd,   
'Free White America!   
Shout loud and proud!'   
No sign of Ingrid,   
Both Methos and Mac-   
Have looked all around,   
Now observe, standing back. 

Mac's engrossed by this Fascist-   
As his features become-   
Those of Der Führer...   
That's it! It's a bomb!   
Mac flashes back to-   
The explosion, when they-   
Failed to kill Hitler,   
On that fateful day. 

The suitcase is there,   
Next to Wilkinson's feet,   
This time it will work,   
No failed repeat.   
Mac dashes outside,   
She's there, he can sense,   
'Don't do this Ingrid!   
Don't kill innocents!' 

Outside 

Ingrid emerges-   
Inside, voices swell,   
'Innocence is relative,   
Duncan...You know that well,'   
'That cop that you killed,   
Just doing his job,   
Committed no crime,   
Had no use for this mob.' 

She: 'Those German soldiers,   
Didn't they pay the price-   
Of our failed attempt?   
What of their sacrifice?'   
Mac pleads, 'That was war!'   
Then he sees in her hand-   
The bomb's detonator,   
He sobs his command... 

'Put it down!' She: 'I can't!'   
Slowly he draws his sword,   
'Duncan, we're friends,'   
Plucking that inner chord,   
Lovely, defenseless,   
She asserts trustingly-   
'You cannot do this...   
You're better than me.' 

Very softly, she posits-   
'Imagine a world-   
No tyrants, dictators,   
On her cheeks, teardrops pearled,   
'I can't let you kill-   
Everyone in that room!'   
'For those racist bastards-   
The world, you would doom?' 

'Who they are, doesn't matter,   
Doesn't give you the right!'   
'And you have the right-   
To stop me, tonight?....   
How is that different-   
From my killing them?'   
She raises her hand,   
Now or never. Requiem. 

Her thumb's on the button,   
MacLeod cries out, 'NO!'   
Now tears stain _his_ face,   
As he swings the blade...SO!   
A cheer's welling up-   
From the rabble inside,   
As they rise to their feet,   
Celebrating White Pride! 

Again and again-   
Through the Quickening's pounding-   
The cheers and ovations-   
Of the Third Reich resounding,   
Beethoven's Ninth-   
With Schiller's poetics-   
Boom in the background-   
For the blazing kinetics. 

A disheveled Duncan-   
Lifts Ingrid so gently,   
For her high ideals,   
He'll mourn her intently,   
Still exhausted, he carries-   
Her still form away,   
In his ears, Breslaw's words-   
'There is only gray.' 

Short Time Later, Outside the Center 

Methos asks, 'You okay?'   
Sitting now, by Mac's side,   
'Ingrid asked me a question,   
Near the moment she died,   
'What was the difference-   
Between her killing them-   
And me killing her....?'   
'Good question, a gem!' 

'Are you ready for the answer?'   
Mac nods, features grim,   
'Stefanovich killed-   
And, Ingrid judged him.   
Wilkinson killed,   
Ingrid judged-'murderer,'   
When Ingrid killed,   
Then you judged her.' 

'So, who judges me?'   
Mac asks, self-chastising,   
Methos, has now-   
Had enough moralizing,   
What's done is done.   
'You hungry?' (Tone breezy),   
Mac lowers his head,   
Life for him's not that easy. 

Peace, Emit   
© 2002 

**ODE TO JOY**   
(Friedrich Schiller) 

|  Music to Quicken By   
English Translation ->

Freude, Schöner Götterfunken,   
Tochter aus Elysium,   
Wir betreten feuer-trunken,   
Himmlische, dein Heiligtum!   
Deine Zauber binden wieder,   
Was die Mode streng geteilt;   
Alle Menschen werden Brüder,   
Wo dein sanfter Flügel weilt. 

Wem der grosse Wurf gelungen,   
Eines Freundes Freund zu sein,   
Wer ein holdes Weib errungen,   
Mische seinen Jubel ein!   
Ja, wer auch nur eine Seele   
Sein nennt auf dem Erdenrund!   
Und wer's nie gekonnt, der stehle   
Weinend sich aus diesem Bund! 

Freude trinken alle Wesen   
An den Brüsten der Natur;   
Alle Guten, alle Bösen   
Folgen ihrer Rosenspur.   
Küsse gab sie uns und Reben,   
Einen Freund, geprüft im Tod;   
Wollust ward dem Wurm gegeben,   
Und der Cherub steht vor Gott. 

| 

Translation (Unknown translator)   


  


Joy, fair spark of the gods,   
Daughter of Elysium,   
Drunk with fiery rapture, Goddess,   
We approach thy shrine!   
Thy magic reunites those   
Whom stern custom has parted;   
All men will become brothers   
Under thy gentle wing. 

May he who has had the fortune   
To gain a true friend   
And he who has won a noble wife   
Join in our jubilation!   
Yes, even if he calls but one soul   
His own in all the world.   
But he who has failed in this   
Must steal away alone and in tears. 

All the world's creatures   
Draw joy from nature's breast;   
Both the good and the evil   
Follow her rose-strewn path.   
She gave us kisses and wine   
And a friend loyal unto death;   
She gave lust for life to the lowliest,   
And the Cherub stands before God.   
  
---|---  
  
This is not the complete poem and can best be appreciated when set to the music of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony as was done in this episode. 

**_Under the Kilt_ from Highlander: The Official Site: **

David Abramowitz, Creative Consultant   
'I loved this episode. James Thorpe wrote this and this was the episode that opened my eyes to what a brilliant writer he is. The specific line was when after the guy who is chasing her thinks he has killed her, but really hasn't, takes a puff of his cigarette and says, 'maybe if I die a little tonight, God will forgive me.' That's where I met the glorious James Thorpe. And how he got his job... when we were looking for another writer, there were two writers who I thought were equally as good, one was James Thorpe. And so I flipped a coin and James lost. But lucky for him, the other guy had already taken another job. So I hired James and that began a four-year relationship that will continue on for a long time.' 

**Don Paonessa, Creative Consultant, Post Production**   
'This was Richard Martin's show and it was a good show. Jan Triska was great in this. The transitions were fun in this show. Richard was good at shooting what we talked about for the transitions. While we were shooting in Vancouver, I could go on set and work with the director.' 

**Ken Gord, Producer**   
'Musetta Vander was good and she was just in 'The Cell' and 'O Brother, Where Art Thou?' This was a good show. Everything clicked. We had a hard time finding someone to play Hitler. I remember in the casting call, nobody wanted to come out. I guess nobody thought they could do it. Patrick Keating was good.' 

~ Comes A Horseman 


End file.
